Goodbye 2025; Also: why antisemitism?

I had meant to pop in for a Hanukkah/end-of-year post all last week, but am only getting around to it now, a day after we’ve lit our last candles for this year.

Hanukkah had started with the massacre of Bondi Beach, an act of unspeakable evil that had re-traumatized our already collectively traumatized nation and reminded us that, sadly, Jews aren’t safe in any corner of the globe right now.

Several people have contacted me on social media asking whether I can explain the extent and power of antisemitism. This is a question many people, cleverer and more educated than I, have grappled with; and while it’s a big topic, here’s something I can say right away: antisemitism is NOT a “response” to whatever the Israeli government is or isn’t doing. This wouldn’t explain all the pogroms, blood libels, expulsions, forced conversions, seizures of property, and countless hostile decrees Jews had experienced throughout history while stateless and scattered.

There’s a spiritual dimension to this: “Esau hates Jacob.” But the way I see it, antisemitism is not a unique phenomenon. Many ethnoreligious groups had suffered persecution.

The Sámi, indigenous people of Northern Europe, had lived through language bans, mandatory boarding schools, land theft, and forced assimilation. The Samaritans, once numbering over a million, have shrunk to a group of just around 140 at the beginning of the 20th century (their numbers have grown thanks to the protection Israel gives them). The Roma people lost about 25% of their population to the Nazi genocide, after centuries of being distrusted, marginalized, and accused of sinister practices like black magic.

So why is antisemitism so widely known and discussed? First, because the Jews are so scattered around the world that antisemitism isn’t confined to one region. It’s a global phenomenon.

Second, antisemitism is pervasive because Jews had stubbornly refused to share the fate of the Etruscans, the Minoans, the Jie people of China, many indigenous American tribes, the Manicheans, and numerous other ethnic/religious groups that had vanished from the pages of history. Preservation of the group is such a core principle in Judaism that it overrides almost any other consideration, like individual safety, comfort, or acceptance.

Third, and this is perhaps most important, Jews were hated for their success, which they had achieved despite almost universal persecution and restrictions.

In a largely illiterate world, Jews had emphasized education. Jewish folklore glorified not the knight riding out against the dragon, but the young boy displaying incredible persistence in mastering a difficult Talmudic portion. Jews were forced to move from country to country, becoming multilingual, culturally flexible, inventive, and adaptable. Resilience, resourcefulness, and creativity became an inseparable part of being Jewish.

Furthermore, with restrictions on land ownership, many Jews who would perhaps otherwise become farmers had turned to pursuits like banking and trade. Of course, it was a no-win situation that created the stereotype of the heartless and tight-fisted Jewish lender.

In the Soviet era, every Jewish mama had drilled into her children’s heads that they MUST work ten times as hard as everyone else to get past the infamous “Jewish quotas” in good universities. This kind of work ethic still persists.

When you’re already marginalized, success breeds envy, much like a school bully might hate a talented dorky classmate. So here we are, following thousands of years of oppression, still going strong – and not going anywhere.

If you want a deeper insight into the trajectory of the Jewish people, I thoroughly recommend Jews, God, and History by Max Dimont.

I wish all my followers a happy, peaceful, healthy, and productive year in 2026!

Two years since October 7th

Photo by cottonbro studio on Pexels.com

As we near Simchat Torah, the Hebrew anniversary of the October 7th massacre approaches. I usually try to anchor myself in positive things – like kitchen hacks, chickens, and yarn – but right now, I can think of little other than the day two years ago, when our world got turned upside down.

I remember it perfectly. I was sitting and schmoozing with some other moms at the playground. It was Saturday, Simchat Torah, and as Shabbat observers, we were blissfully unaware that anything was going on.

Then a panicked-looking lady ran past us, swinging her phone, and snapped at us, “What are you doing sitting here? (Would it help if we started running?) Don’t you know there had been an attack?” (How would we know?)

I would be away from my phone until the evening of that day, but as we walked home, I caught snatches of buzzing conversations: “army taken by surprise… 300 people killed… how is this possible?”

Hours later, the full extent of the horrifying pogrom became known to us. A horde of bloodthirsty barbarians had invaded from Gaza and proceeded to slaughter around 1,200 innocent people (we’d learn this number later, as bodies were gradually uncovered and identified). As if we didn’t have borders, intelligence units, and a tech-whiz army. As if we were back in the shtetl, at the mercy of invading Cossacks.

The IDF rallied within a few hours, but any illusion of personal safety had been snatched away. We were afraid to leave the house. My children were speculating on whether a terrorist would think to search the attic if we lived through a similar invasion in our town.

I would get up in the middle of the night to check the door and windows. I’d experience a moment of relief once I ensured that everything was locked, only to figure that a hand grenade would probably enable a terrorist to break in.

This was nothing new, of course. We were, and are, part of a nation that had long carried generational trauma of countless expulsions, pogroms, persecutions, and, of course, the Holocaust. But October 7th drew a clear line in the sand: life before, life after. Things would never be the same.

In the months following the massacre, my mental health suffered. I continued working and carrying on my daily routine, but it was mostly on autopilot. I would forget simple stuff. I’d open the refrigerator and struggle to remember why. Things I enjoyed seemed to lose their flavor. I’d want to have my children within my sight, always, which of course wasn’t possible.

The recommendation of mental health services seemed disingenuous. No amount of counseling could obliterate a REAL danger. I began feverishly exploring different possibilities of getting our family out – to some remote corner in the world where we could hide and be safe. Until the rising tide of worldwide antisemitism convinced me that there probably is no such a corner anywhere anymore.

Today, two years after the massacre, and with the elimination of Mohammed Deif, Ismail Haniyeh, Yahya Sinwar, Hassan Nasrallah, and the Iranian nuclear facilities, I have achieved some measure of balance. Life will still never be the same, but I strive to be a worthy link in the chain of Jewish resilience through the ages.

May we get to celebrate a joyful Simchat Torah despite the black cloud of trauma that has now settled over this holiday for all of future Jewish history.

A quick update

Photo by aboodi vesakaran on Pexels.com

Following the recent developments in our area, I thought I’d just pop in, say hi, and let everyone know we’re fine.

We’ve had our share of dashes to the bomb shelter at 4 a.m., but overall, we’re OK and hoping for some deep-rooted changes in the area after all this is over.

The threat of the bloodthirsty IRGC, which has vowed multiple times to annihilate Israel, has hung over us like a black cloud for years. I was often scared, not of war, but of what may happen if our government sits on its hands for the sake of temporary false calm. In a way, it’s a relief to know we’re tackling this menace now.

In the meantime, we’re trying to go on as normally as possible. Everything is closed, we don’t dare to venture too far from home because we need to stay near the familiar route to the bomb shelter, but we’re de-stressing as much as possible with books, crafts, board games, cooking, baking, digging in the ground, and hanging out with our animals.

Everything will be well. Am Yisrael Chai!

Warm winter days

Time passes more quickly than I can grasp, and before I knew it, we’re in 2025 already. We’re having a pleasant, warm winter, and the weather has been so nice that our newest pullets have actually started laying already!

Although the weather doesn’t feel very winter-y, it’s still cool enough for my beloved laceweight wool crocheted scarves. I’m working on another triangular scarf/shawl in Malabrigo Lace (review coming when it’s done, hopefully before summer rolls around).

Regionally, it seems like things are starting to calm down a bit, too. Although you never know what the future may bring, I’m optimistic in looking forward to a period of relative calm.

An exciting announcement: Yours truly has started writing for Emergency Prep Guy, a great resource for preparedness and survival. Check out my contributions here.

1 year since the Simchat Torah massacre

We’re now only days away from the Hebrew anniversary of the October 7th massacre, which brought our world crashing down on last Simchat Torah.

I will always remember that day. I was enjoying a quiet morning in the park with my kids when I heard people around me talking in worried voices. Rumors were flying. Apparently, a war had broken out, but I didn’t grasp the full extent of the disaster until the evening, when the holiday was over and I could turn on the phone and get updates.

We were instantly plunged into a nightmare of shock, grief, terror, and anxiety. The war is still ongoing, but I feel an immense sense of peace and pride in my country knowing we’ve now eliminated Mohammed Deif, Ismail Haniyeh, Hassan Nasrallah, and Yahya Sinwar – the four greatest evil leaders plaguing our borders.

To all those who said, “We must grant safe passage to Sinwar and other Hamas chiefs to secure a hostage deal” – no, nope, absolutely not. This level of evil needs to be burned down, not appeased or negotiated with. The world needs to know that every enemy of Israel and the Jewish people will get their comeuppance.

Of course, this isn’t over yet. I know that these trolls were Iranian proxies. But I hope and pray that we’ll see the axis of evil broken at last.

Happy Sukkot to all Jews around the world!

An update in uncertain times

Dear friends,

I’m writing this long overdue update at a time that is both the busiest in the year (just a little over a week until Passover) and fraught with uncertainty as we expect an attack from Iran any moment.

We’ve been doing our best to prepare for a SHTF scenario: stocking on drinking water, canned foods, hygienic products, candles, medicines, and other supplies.

I’ve been cleaning the house with all I have to make sure I complete as much as possible as early as possible, in case we spend most of next week at the bombshelter.

I’m (mostly) caught up on laundry, I have cash on hand, money in the bank, and the bills paid. We also have plenty of non-digital entertainment (books, board games, craft supplies) to relieve stress if the internet connection goes down.

We aren’t panicking, but things aren’t looking too promising right now. If you’re in Israel and reading this, stay safe and on high alert. Have your self defense weapons ready if you have them.

If I can, I’ll keep preparing for the holiday in the next few days. There’s still quite a bit of cleaning to do, switching to the Pesach dishes, bedding to change, and other odds and ends.

I’ll try to update when I can. Please keep Israel in your thoughts and prayers. 🙏🏾

Just a little hello

Hanukkah had already passed without me popping in to say hi (even though I meant to, I promise), but this is still a good time to wish everyone a happy holiday season. May our light shine brightly and chase darkness away.

Right before and during Hanukkah it became clearer than ever to me that we’re dealing with an unprecedented wave of antisemitism. An online author event I was going to participate in was canceled because the organizers were afraid to expose participants to social media trolls. When I started contacting people in the hopes of organizing an alternative event, I discovered some are legitimately afraid to “out” as Jews. There have been other outrageous happenings, like the Zenner club in Berlin refusing to host a Purim party.

It’s like a very thin, flimsy cover of civilization and tolerance has been yanked off, and Jew-haters are running in a pack again, this time dressing their antisemitism as “anti-Zionism.”

These hateful individuals are forgetting the sad failure of Egyptians, Babylonians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, the Inquisition, Nazi Germany, and other nations or movements that tried to erase the Jewish existence or the Jewish spirit. They won’t succeed… but it’s almost certain they will keep trying.

It also seems that the West is on the brink of much more serious chaos than a few anti-Semitic marches. I won’t be surprised if an epic storm of you-kn0w-what might hit the fan in the upcoming years, and we’d all better be prepared. Today, I’m convinced that the survivor won’t be the lonely guy with a bunker full of supplies for the next 100 years, but the resilient community of people who help each other out.

Stay safe, my friends. Wishing you all a very happy and successful 2024.